


Wanderlust

by Tyloric



Category: Firefly
Genre: Aftermath of trauma, But no angst to speak of, Caretaking, Domestic, Drama, Established Relationship, Family, Happy Ending, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, If you only read one work by me, Jayne gets a clue, Kaylee is pretty much everyone's mom, M/M, Major Character Injury, Near Death Experience, River being creepy and supportive, Violence, it should be this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 12:44:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyloric/pseuds/Tyloric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In their line of work injury is inevitable. It doesn't mean they have to be happy about it.</p><p>A story about how Mal and Jayne cope with the cruel reality that survival isn't necessarily guaranteed. Also: awkward romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bed Rest

**Author's Note:**

> As I was going through some of my older stories I came across this one. I wrote it several years ago. The first chapter was originally titled _Bed Rest_ and the second chapter was the sequel called _Twenty Hours_. These two fics were where I first started to feel confident enough to continue writing. I had always questioned my ability and was always really self conscious. This was also a difficult period of my life (and I remember writing these not long after I had had surgery). As such, these two stories have a special place in my heart. Fun fact: this was the first sex scene I ever wrote.
> 
> So, since AO3 is my new home and all my newer works are being posted here exclusively, it felt only appropriate to bring them over. I've cleaned them up a bit and tweaked some parts, but for the most part they remain virtually unchanged..
> 
> And as one last side note; I have lost all of the translations for all of the Mandarin spoken in this story. So, uh, your guess is as good as mine. :B
> 
>  _Bed Rest_ was originally posted on Feburary 3rd, 2009, with _Twenty Hours_ being posted the next day.

“Gorramit!” Jayne growled, angrily. “I can’t take this no more!” He yelled and started to sit up from Mal’s bunk.

Mal, who was sitting in a chair right next to his bunk reading a book, grabbed him by the back of his shirt. “And just where do you think you’re going?” he asked, pulling him back down to the bed a bit more roughly than he had meant to. “Doc, said get some bed rest.”

Jayne groaned loudly, irritated. “ _Hwun dan_!”

Mal just continued skimming through the novel in his hands. “Face it, Jayne. You’re with me tonight.”

“I’ve been stuck’n this _gorram_ bunk for three ruttin’ days. I’m goin’ stir crazy here, Mal!” Jayne pleaded desperatly, flailing his left arm about in emphasis.

Mal glanced over at the mercenary. “Jayne, you got shot in three places, your gut, arm and shin. I doubt you’d be able to make it up the gorram ladder, let alone walk around,” he chided, getting right in Jayne’s face. “ _Dong ma_?”

Jayne’s eyes hardened a bit, his face turning up into a scowl. “But-“

Mal waved his hand dismissively. “Doc’s orders; two weeks _at least_. It was hard enough getting your ass down here cause you were to gorram stupid to stay in the infirmary.”

Jayne let out another low, frustrated growl before crossing his arms, turning his head to look away from the captain. He still had eleven more days then. _This is some twisted sort of hell, that’s what this is_ , Jayne couldn't help but think. Two weeks of not moving or working out would kill him before the gorram bullet wounds would.

They sat there for several minutes without saying anything, Jayne seetheing endlessly and Mal continuing to read his book. It wasn’t a terribly interesting story, though. He’d borrowed it from Kaylee and was just using it for times like these when Jayne was insufferable. Some sort of romance, but he honestly wasn't paying much attention to what it said.

“Ya know this is all your fault, right?” Jayne muttered accusingly.

Mal snorted though his voice held little humor. “My fault? How in the gorram ‘verse is it _my_ fault?”

“You always gotta go’n jinx us!” Jayne turned back around to face the seated man. “ ‘I ain’t expectin’ any trouble’,” he mocked without putting much effort into mimicking Mal's voice. ”Every job we get. You ain’t never expectin’ trouble an that’s why we always get screwed over. Need ta learn to keep your trap _shut_.” Mal almost wasn’t able to keep a straight face on that last part.

“ _Tyen shiao-duh_ , I do not say that on every job.” Mal snapped back, though, as he thought about, he was actually inclined to agree. No way he’d admit it though, not to Jayne anyway.

The merc’s eyes narrowed. “Well ya did this time! An look what it got me. Gorram near got me killed.” He let out another huff before muttering under his breath “Can’t even jack off cause of this _luh-suh_ arm.” He tried to flex his right bicep, wincing in pain where the bullet had entered.

“You’re the one who decided it’d be a brilliant idea to suddenly… oh, what was it? Oh, now I remember; _stand up in the middle of a gorram gun fight_!” Mal snapped the book closed and tossed it off to the side. Somewhere in the vague reaches of his mind he noted that it probably wasn’t the best idea to treat Kaylee's property as such, seeing as he did have to return it eventually. But it was very, very, _very_ distant thought.

“Hey! I was trying to get a clear shot!” Jayne spat defensively.

“In the middle of a gun fight!” Mal got to his feet, his voice raising to a near yell.

“We wouldn’t ‘ave even _been_ in a gorram gun fight if you knew how to find a decent job fer us!”

Something in Mal slipped out; thoughts that he usually tried to ignore. They found their way to his lips all the same and he found suddenly that he was shouting, “I’ve got a dead pilot, another pilot who sometimes can’t form a gorram sentence let alone fly this ship, a trigger happy merc, a greif stricken first mate, and a doctor with commitment issues! To top it all off, now I’m yet another man short because he can’t seem to find decent cover! I don’t have time to _choose_ jobs, I have to take what I can find! So _chur ni-duh_!” Mal flung his hands up in the air and stomped over to the wall on the other side of the room, bracing himself against it.

Jayne eyed him wearily, not sure what to make of Mal's sudden outburst of emotions. The merc had never considered himself the brightest star in the black. He's always had the one focus: getting the job done, consequences be damned. At least... that’s what it _used_ to be. Now a days, Jayne wasn’t sure. Some time after that _go se_ on Miranda he and Mal had started… _servicing_ … each other, which had brought forth a whole buffet of emotions Jayne was unfamiliar with, and as such he wasn’t sure what to do in situations that didn't require him to be shooting something.

After another minute or so Mal sat back down in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his thumbs with his fingers threaded together. He stared at Jayne’s eyes intently, as if trying to speak to him without actually saying anything.

The larger man eventually rested his head back against the pillows again, his eyes softening. Jayne looked away and mumbled something Mal couldn’t quite hear.

Raising an eyebrow he asked, “What was that?”

The merc repeated himself a bit louder this time, but still not enough that he could comprehend.

“What?”

“I’m sorry!” Jayne bellowed, annoyance flickering in his eyes before relaxing again.

Mal consider him for a moment before letting out a deep sigh. “Yeah, me too," he sighed, reaching over to rest his hand on Jayne's forearm.

Jayne lay for there a few more moments, enjoying Mal’s touch, as a slow grin spread across his face. “Wer’ not too good at this whole relationship stuff, eh?”

Mal snorted, amused. “Ain’t that the truth?” He moved his hand to thread his fingers through Jayne's, squeezing lightly.

Apparently, though, that wasn’t enough for Jayne. He reached over with his left arm and gripped Mal’s wrist tightly. “Would you get over here?” he grunted, pulling Mal's slightly small frame over to him as forcefully as he could without tearing open any stitches.

Smiling mostly to himself, Mal climbed on top of Jayne. Mal rested his hands on either side of Jayne's head to support his own weight and positioned his legs so that they were in between Jayne's thighs. His smile turned into a smirk. “You know we can’t do much until you’re able to sit up, right?”

Jayne returned the smirk with one of his own. “We can do enough.” He gripped the back of Mal's neck and pulled him into a kiss that was all tounge.

Mal groaned when their lips met, a familiar burn spreading through his belly and groin. He had to hand it to the man, for someone who didn’t really enjoy kissing Jayne was damn good at it.

After a while though, Jayne pulled away. “Clothes. Lose ‘em.”

Mal couldn’t get naked fast enough; he unbuttoned his shirt a quickly as his hands would allowed (because sewing buttons back on was just a pain in the ass) and threw it across the room. Kicking of his boots and then his pants, he reached over to assist Jayne. With only one good arm Jayne'd managed to get his pants off but not his shirt.

Once they were both undressed, Mal climbed back on top of the significantly hairier man before trapping him in another kiss.

Jayne reached down with his good arm and gave one of Mal’s cheeks a firm squeeze, and Mal couldn't help the groan that forced its way out.

Mal risked putting a bit more weight on Jayne so that he could grind his cock against Jayne's with as much friction as possible. Jayne growled at the contact, his hips bucking involuntarily. Reaching down, Mal gripped both of their dicks together, making them both moan.

It was over so quickly that is was almost embaressing. Mal came first, having to bite down onto Jayne’s shoulder to keep from screaming out. With one final thrust of his hips Jayne let out an almost feral growl, spilling himself all over their stomachs.

Mal fell over, laying on Jayne’s left side, his face buried in the mans neck. Jayne kissed the top of his head, “Two weeks ain’t gonna be so bad if we get to do this every night,” he chuckled.

Mal laughed quietly, moving to plant a quick kiss on his lips before lying back down. They didn’t even bother to clean themselves up before the both nodded off, limbs still tangled together.


	2. Twenty Hours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact #2: I didn't include Inara because I forgot about her when I first started writing. Just use your imagination, I guess. :D
> 
> I added a scene to the beginning of the story so that it flows better with Bed Rest. I also rewrote several scenes from the story itself because that was easier than fixing it up sentence-by-sentence.

“ _Chubbins_?” Jayne sputtered, “What the hell kind’a name is _Chubbins?_ ”

Mal was giving him a look that was a cross between annoyance and amusement. “That’s just the name of the moon, Jayne. I ain’t never heard of it ‘fore now.”

The mercenary barked a laugh. “Well with a name like that _,_ I ain’t surprised. Hey, where you from? I’m from _Chubbins!_ ” He tittered at his own joke.

Mal rolled his eyes, but he was smiling all the same. Clasping the mug that sat in front of him, he took another long, slow draw of coffee. It was bitter, as they’d run out of sweetener, and it stung the back of his throat a bit on its way down, but damned if it didn’t wake him up something proper. Straight up black coffee, one of the only ways he stayed on his feet after a night with no sleep.

Jayne’s partly to blame for him not sleeping; the man had the libido of teenager. Of course, last night had been their first real night of proper sexin’, as Jayne had just been given a bill of clean health by the doc the day prior, and Jayne had literally jumped at the chance to get his rocks off in a way that didn’t exclusively include hands and rubbing against one another.

It hadn’t stopped Jayne from working out, however. In the week and a half Jayne had been confined to his, and Mal’s by extension, bunk, Jayne hadn’t been able to stay completely bedridden, despite both his and Simon’s constant warnings of reopening the bullet wounds. Naturally, he had graciously ignored them both, waiting until Mal was forced to leave on a job before doing his pushups, sit ups, and squats, forcing himself through the pain that any other man would have found excruciating. After a while he had started ignoring medical advice completely and moved on to his weight set, only to open up the gun wound in his bicep. Needless to say, that hadn’t been a very fun day.

However, regardless of the fact that he was pushing himself, he had gotten the doc (more like threatened, really) to give him the okay to go out on a job. Simon had begrudgingly agreed.

Jayne, on the other hand, was bouncing up and down in his seat, ready to get off the ship after weeks of confinement.

“So what are we delivering to _Chubbins_ _?_ ” Jayne couldn’t help but put emphassis on the name; to him it was the funniest thing he’d heard in a while. Mind you, it didn’t take much to amuse Jayne.

“Illegal weapons!” Mal said, cheerily, “ _Donated_ very graciously by the alliance.” Jayne snorted.

“Don’t s’pose we-” he began.

“No, Jayne. We ain’t keepin’ any of ‘em,” Mal finished for him, propping his feet up on the table in the galley, cradling his mug tenderly.

“Aw, c’mon, Mal. They ain’t gonna miss one or two… or seven.” Mal actually enjoyed it when Jayne got this way, all pouty. It was, dare he say, cute. And a bit sexy. But mostly cute… and sexy.

“Buyers requested thirty G286 Semi-automatic rifles, and they’re gonna _get_ thirty G286 Semi-automatic rifles.”

Jayne was looking at him, awestruck. “Semi-auto… semi-automatic _… Rifles?!_ Aw, c’mon, Mal! Just one!” He was drooling a bit at the mouth, his eyes wide with interest like a kid who just saw a toy in a shop window he can't live without.

 _Okay, maybe it’s a bit more than cute,_ Mal thought, _it’s kind’a funny too._

“Sorry, _àirén._ ” Jayne’s eyes always softened when Mal called him that. “They want thirty. Thirty’s all we got.” And Jayne frowned, genuinely disappointed.

But then a smile spread over his face again. “Heh, _Chubbins_ _._ ”

Mal groaned. “Oh, shut up.”

River chose that moment to step into the galley, bare feet treading lightly across the cool chrome floor.

Mal regarded her. “Hey there, Albatross. We on course?”

“One hour until arrival, Captain,” she said smoothly, turning on the faucet to fill a cup of water.

Jayne turned to look at her. “Hey, Moonbrain.”

She met his gaze.

“ _Chubbins._ ”

River’s lips tugged up into a smile while Mal slapped his palm against his forehead.

 

-

 

Then everything went to hell, just like it always seems too.

 

-

 

Jayne had been counting the seconds in his head. Of course he had lost track after the first few hundred so he had resorted to pacing around the common room. The repition steadied his nerves for a while, but eventually the restlessness came back.

Desperate to try and clear his head, Jayne showered and put on clean clothes, hoping it would make him feel at the very least refreshed. It didn’t.

He was aching to do something, anything, rather than wait here. So he brought his girls into the common area and started to clean ‘em.

After the ship had broken atmo, Kaylee had come to sit with him. She was probably just as worried as Jayne was, and to be honest he enjoyed the company. He continued to cast nervous glances at the closed doors of the infirmary, which were now tinted so that no one could see inside.

 _It’ll be an easy job,_ Mal had said. Like he always said. Every time, like clockwork. _Easy_. The word bounced around in Jayne's skull until it made him dizzy.

Kaylee gripped his forearm, squeezing it slightly. “He’ll be fine,” she comforted, “Simon’ll fix’em up good as new. You’ll see.”

Jayne wasn’t nearly as confident. Mal had pushed him out of the way, and Jayne had looked up just in time to see the rain of bullets rip into Mal’s chest and abdomen, a fine mist of blood spurting after each hit. _Tianna,_ the blood. There had been so much of it that you wouldn’t have known Mal’s blue shirt was blue. Crimson stained his entire torso, a small trickle leaking out the side of his mouth.

Jayne had lost it then. Killed seven of them (ripped several of their throats out), Zoë picking off the last two. He had come back looking almost as bloody as Mal, though none of it had been his. He hadn’t been injured on this job, not this time. The Captain had seen to that.

The mercenary took a deep breath, trying to force the images of a dying Mal out of his head.

“Yeah, good as new,” Jayne whispered back to her, doubtfully.

A couple of hours later Jayne had finished cleaning his girls, and noticed Kaylee was starting to drift off to sleep.

“Why don’tcha go to your bunk?” he suggested.

He was met with one of her trademark smiles. While Jayne would never admit it outloud, Kaylee's smile always managed to ease some of the tension out of shoulders. “I’m fine,” she said tiredly.

Jayne rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around her. She was asleep on his shoulder not ten minutes later.

River made her way down the stairs then, stepping along with the grace of a feather. She ran the tips of her fingers along the windows of the infirmary ardently. Her face was completely blank, but aware.

“Do you know if—?” Jayne started to ask her.

“There is still too much work to be done. Too early to tell,” she told him cooly and Jayne felt a bit more of his morale slip away. Not even moonbrain could tell if Mal was gonna make it. She floated lightly up to the couch, sitting down on the side of him opposite of Kaylee, and rested her head on his shoulder.

 _Whatever_ , he thought dismissively, and wrapped his free arm around her. She didn’t say anything else, only leaning slightly into the embrace.

 _Funny,_ Jayne mused _, couple’a months ago and I would be celebratin’ havin’ two beautiful women in my arms._

River let out a loose laugh then. “You think I’m beautiful?”

Under other circumstances Jayne would be profusely irritated that she had been reading him, but Jayne just didn't have the energy to yell at her right now. “Well ya ain’t completely unblessed,” he mumbled and could practically feel River smiling at him, though he refused to check and look. She just snuggled up closer against him.

They stayed like that for the next few hours, Jayne lost in thought, the two girls sleeping soundly next to him. He didn’t really mind, either. When did that happen?

Eventually, though, River’s eyes snapped open. “It’s time,” she announced as she stood up. Right on cue, the doors to the infirmary slid open. Gently easing his arm out from under Kaylee, he laid her down softly onto the couch before turning. Simon stood in the doorway, looking exhausted and wearing a bloody surgical apron. Jayne eyed it worriedly.

Simon met his gaze. “He’s out of the woods, for now.”

An enormous wave of relief passed through the mercenary, some of the tension releasing from his shoulders.

“But,” Simon continued, “I need to monitor him for the next twenty-four hours. Just to be sure.”

Jayne nodded understandingly. “Can I, uh…?” Jayne trailed off, trying to look past Simon’s shoulders.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. Of course,” he said, stepping out of the way.

Jayne walked cautiously over to Mal, who was lying on the table a bit too motionless for his liking. An oxygen mask was planted firmly over his face, and his breaths were ragged and uneven. Bandages were wrapped around his entire chest and abdomen, no skin peeking through, with a blanket covering him up to his waist. His clothes lay torn and shredded in a pile at the back of the room.

“When will he wake up?” Jayne asked weakly.

“I… I don’t know. The anesthetics will keep him asleep for the next several hours. After that, it’s all up to him.”

“Twenty hours,” River said, simply.

Simon looked over to her, worriedly. “River?”

She looked at him squarely. “He will regain consciousness in approximately twenty hours,” River said firmly, nodding her head to add emphasis.

“You sure?” Jayne asked and she looked at him like he was an idiot. He felt like one; this was River, after all. She had a keen sense about these sorts of things.

Jayne took Mal’s hand in his, feeling a newfound sense of worry coupled with an emotion he didn’t recognize that had settled in his gut, making him nauseous. Mal’s skin was chilly. “He’s so cold…”

Simon nodded grimly. “He lost a lot of blood. But,” he added, pointing out a red bag that was hanging next to Mal, “I’m transfusing him.”

He ran a hand through Mal’s hair, finding it was tangled and oily, his skin was eerily pale. For a moment Jayne forgot how to breathe. He looked over to River hopefully. “Twenty?”

She nodded again. “Twenty.”

 

**One**

Kaylee had woken up to the sound of Jayne pulling one of the chairs from the common room into the infirmary. She stared bleary-eyed at him for a moment, before realizing where he was headed.

“Jayne!” she shouted.

The mercenary jumped, his hand shooting to where his gun would be, had he been wearing it. “Gorram it, Kaylee! Don’t scare me like that!” He eyed her angrily.

She ignored him. “Is he…?”

Jayne’s eyes softened a bit. “Yeah, he’s doin’ fine. He’ll be out for a while though.” The mechanic rose to her feet, squeezing past Jayne into the infirmary. He continued with bringing the chair inside, setting it next to where Mal lay. He plopped down in the chair and immediately took hold of Mal’s hand again, rubbing the back of it with his thumb.

Kaylee was standing on the side opposite to him, a hand over her mouth. “He looks so…” She paused as if she couldn't find the words.

“Yeah, I know.”

They stayed silent for quite a long while. Kaylee kept her gaze fixed on the Captain’s face, trying to hold back the tears that had formed in her eyes. Jayne noticed. “Why don’tcha go check on that Doc ‘a yours? He looked pretty beat.”

Kaylee looked at him with her eyebrows raised, surprised, then nodded. With one last glance at Mal, she headed out of the infirmary and up the stairs.

Jayne continued to sit there, not noticing the hours as they crept by.

 

**Four**

Simon came to check up on Mal after he had gotten a few hours’ shut eye. Grabbing Mal’s wrist and taking his pulse, tapping on the various machines that were monitoring his vitals, and scrawling down notes on pieces of paper. It was making Jayne, who had yet to move from his chair, twitchy.

The silence eventually got the better of him, though. “Looks like ’es dead,” Jayne muttered.

Simon didn’t turn around. “He’s going to be fine, Jayne.”

Jayne sighed sadly. “Shoulda been me.”

That got Simon’s attention. “What do you mean?”

“ _Hundan_ pushed me outta the way. Shoulda been me who got all blown to hell, not him.” Jayne's eyes narrowed as the memory flashed with through his head.

“Jayne, there was no way to see this coming. Be thankful he’s _alive._ Don’t waste your energy on what might have happened.”

The man’s face went neutral when he went to look into Simon’s eyes, taking in what he had just said. After a few moments, he nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” When the doctor smiled, Jayne quickly added, “For once.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “It’s late. You should try to get some rest. It’ll be morning in a few hours.”

Jayne’s gaze drifted back to Mal. “I’m fine here, doc. Thanks.” Simon frowned at him worriedly before sighing in defeat.

He took one last check of Mal’s vitals before turning back to Jayne. “I’m going to try and get a bit more sleep before morning. Call me if there is any change?”

“You’d be the first.”

Simon regarded him for a moment, then nodded and walked out of the infirmary.

Jayne gripped Mal’s hand again, this time raising it to his forehead. “Don’t make no gorram sense whatcha did. Should be me layin’ ‘ere.” He pressed a kiss to the back of Mal’s palm. “No gorram sense.”

Zoë watched from the doorway, not letting her presence known. After a few more seconds, she turned to return to her bunk, hoping sleep wouldn’t be too hard to find.

 

**Seven**

Jayne could hear the rustling of the crew upstairs, each of them going about their morning routines. His eyes had gotten heavy, but he’d operated without sleep before, and he refused to take his eyes off of Mal for even a second.

A knock drew his attention to the doorway. “I brought you some breakfast,” Kaylee said quietly, holding a plate of food.

Jayne took the plate, noticing what was on it. “Eggs? Scrambled eggs? Where the gorram hell did we get eggs?”

Kaylee beamed. “I bought ‘em while we were on the ground.”

“You bought eggs? With your wages? Must’a cost ya a pretty bit’a coin.” Jayne frowned.

“Don’t worry none, it’s worth it. Eggs is good for ya.”

Jayne looked down at the plate. It didn’t feel right to be eating something someone else had bought for themselves. Eggs were expensive.

The mechanic rolled her eyes. “Oh, would you eat them, already? They’re already cooked and everyone else has gone and eaten already. They’ll just go to waste if ya don’t.”

Jayne frowned at her again before nodding, taking the fork that was on the plate and scooping some of it into his mouth. He nearly melted as the taste of smoke, salt, and egg assaulted his taste buds. He’d forgotten what fresh food tasted like and moaned very lightly. “It’s good.”

Kaylee smiled sweetly. “Told ya.”

After a while, she looked at him with concern. “How long have you been sittin’ there?”

Jayne paused, thinking. “Well, I can’t feel my _pigu_ anymore, so you tell me.”

“Well you can’t stay in here _all_ the time. That just ain’t healthy.”

Jayne’s eyes narrowed, but there wasn’t any anger. “I ain’t leavin’ him here, Kaylee. My fault he’s on this table’n the first place.” He handed her his now empty plate. “I appreciate it.”

She was half-frowning at him, brow furrowed in thought. “Well, alright… But if you’re _still_ in here at lunch time, I’m coming down here to drag you out myself, Jayne _Michael_ Cobb.” Jayne winced. She and Mal were the only ones on the crew who knew his full, name and he had learned that when either of them used it, they meant business.

“Fine,” he huffed.

She stepped over, putting a hand on his shoulder. “He’s gonna be fine, Jayne. My man knows how to fix people up.”

He smiled weakly. “Yeah, I guess he does.”

“Did you not sleep at all last night?”

“Nope.”

Now Kaylee just seemed irritated. “Well, why not?”

Jayne hesitated, wondering if he should answer that truthfully. “I, uh…” he started, but the words got caught in his throat. But, when she didn’t look away, he tried again. “Just feels weird.”

“What does?”

“Him not being next’ta me. Just feels… weird. Can’t fall asleep.” He looked away, as if ashamed.

Kaylee, on the other hand, was grinning like an idiot, “You _love_ him!”

His head snapped back in her direction, scowling. “ _What?!_ No I don’t!”

She persisted. “You do! You love him! Oh, Jayne, I think that’s shiny _._ ”

“I don’t love him, girlie! Best get that outta yer head real quick like,” he growled.

Kaylee raised her hands in surrender. “Fine fine, you don’t love'em.” She turned, a bounce in her step as she exited the infirmary. “Remember, Jayne. Lunch time.”

“Get!” Jayne snapped. She laughed and left. He turned back to Mal then, lost in thought. Sure, he cared for the guy, but Jayne Michael Cobb was not a man to fall in love with _anyone_.

Was he?

 

**Ten**

He'd started pacing around the room feel antsy, eventually forcing himself to go up to the galley to make some tea only when the doc came in to do his routine check on the captain. He was on edge, but he wasn’t sure if that was because of Mal, the lack of sleep, or if it was because of what Kaylee had said. Either way. he was irritated.

The galley was deserted, everyone else probably going about their chores on the ship. Chores, Jayne realized, he was skipping out on.

Grabbing a pot from one of the cabinets and filling it with water, he flicked the stove on and set the pot full of water down on it. Going through the rest of the steps like clockwork, Jayne then moved to sit at the table, his head in his hands.

He breathed in deeply and held it for a few seconds. It was a practice his ma had taught him to get oneself to calm down. Just hold your breath, and then release it. Gets your breathing steadier, and damned if it didn’t work.

Could he love Mal? Jayne'd never loved anyone other than the family back home, but if memory served, living on Serenity had a strange way of changing folk. When he and Mal had first started _servicing_ each other, Jayne had been in it just for the ruttin’. Free sex whenever you wanted it; how could that possibly get complicated?

Mal had to complicate it, just like he did everything else. Had to go and open that mouth of his. _Thinking this might be more than just sex, Jayne._ Always had to open his gorram mouth. Always had to make something simple complicated. Jayne didn’t do well with complicated; he was a simple guy. Eat, sleep, fuck, shoot people, get paid. That’s all he needed in life to be happy.

At least, it had been. Now, he couldn’t even sleep without Mal nearby, and he didn’t have any interest in ruttin’ with anyone that _wasn’t_ Mal. He had killed the guys that had shot at them, but that had been in a blind rage. A rage that Jayne hadn’t felt in a _long_ time.

This realization made Jayne feel like he had been back slapped across the face. “ _Tamade!”_ he shouted, slamming his head down on the wooden table.

“What’s the matter?” Zoë asked as she stepped into the galley.

He turned to look at her, frustrated. “I think I love Mal,” he growled.

“You just now figuring that out?” she asked as the tea pot started whistling noisily.

“Mal di’nt hire me cause’m smart,” Jayne pointed out.

Zoë snorted, pouring two cups of the hot liquid, just directly adding the leaves. It gave the tea a weird texture, but they didn't have an infuser, and in the black you learn not to be picky. Walking over to the table, she set down one of the cups in front of him.

“Appreciate it,” Jayne muttered.

She sat down across from him. “You’re a good tracker, though, Jayne. Didn’t you see the signs that you two were getting closer than just rut buddies?”

“Don’t rub it in,” he said, tracing his finger along his temples. Jayne lifted up his glass to take a sip, enjoying the warmth that spread in the back of his throat all the way to his belly. “Just ain’t ever loved someone ‘fore.”

Not even thinking when he spoke next, Jayne asked, “How’d ya know you loved Wash?”

But Zoë didn’t flinch, or tense, or do anything that showed she was uncomfortable with the question. “Just knew.” When Jayne just looked at her confused, she continued, “We had just gotten done with a job. It was Wash’s first time as getaway. He just barely got to us in time. Mal gave him hell, and so did I. But when I got done yelling at him he just sighed, leaned in, and kissed me.”

Jayne’s eyebrows shot up. “Just like that?”

Zoë nodded, “Just like that. Knocked him on his ass for doing it, too.” She chuckled at the memory, causing the mercenary to grin a bit. “But then things slowly just got a bit more serious from there, until he eventually proposed.”

“Huh. Wouldn’ta known the little man had it in him.”

“Can’t help who you fall for, Jayne. You just happened to fall in love with your boss.” She got up and, with a pat on his shoulder, walked off towards the bridge.

Jayne sat there for a bit longer, lost in thought.

 

**Twelve**

“Jayne!” Kaylee called, walking into the infirmary. “Come eat lunch.”

Jayne's lips twitched. but he didn’t look at her. “Not hungry.” But he stood up anyway.

“Too bad,” she said, dragging him up the stairs to the galley. “We made sandwiches!” Jayned just huffed, beginning to feel the effects of no sleep.

When they got upstairs, they found the other three crew members seated around the table. Kaylee made sure Jayne was seated before taking her place next to Simon. He lay his head on the table, sighing when Zoë pushed a plate in front of him.

“’m not hungry,” he mumbled.

“Eat,” she ordered. He scowled at her before sitting up straight, taking the sandwich in his hand. It wasn’t a sandwich, really; it was just protein that had been processed and made to mimic other types of food. Tasteless _go se_ if you asked him.

“Yes, you have too,” Zoë said when opened his mouth to ask her caust Jayne to groan dejectedly. He took the food in a hand and bit off a small portion of it, trying not to make a face as the paste-like texture of it spread onto his tongue as he chewed. Didn’t taste too bad, though. Someone had added cinnamon. Jayne was surprised how satisfying it felt when he swallowed, like an emptiness filling up. He must have been hungry, and just not realized it past the exhaustion.

Jayne could feel everyone’s eyes on him as he hate, and it started to make him uncomfortable, so he tried to start a conversation. “So, what we gonna do ‘bout work?” he asked Zoë.

“How do you mean?”

“Well, even when Mal wakes up, it’ll be a while ‘fore he’s able to do much, right? Don’t that mean you’re in charge?” He took another small bite.

Zoë’s brow furrowed in thought before she turned to Simon. “How long will his recovery time be?”

Simon waited until he was finished chewing before replying. “I had to open him up completely to repair the damage. It’ll be a few weeks before he’s even able to sit up under his own power, much less go out on jobs. And after that, the muscle atrophy will take even longer to overcome with physical therapy.”

“So…?” Jayne prompted.

“A few months. Though knowing how stubborn he is, we’ll say a month and a half.”

“Damn,” Jayne muttered, taking another bite.

They discussed options over the course of the meal, Kaylee adding that her pa may need some deliveries done, and that she hadn’t been to the homestead in a while, anyway. Jayne just listened as they all talked, River making her way over to him.

“He’ll need you by his side when he wakes,” she whispered in his ear.

“What? Who, Mal?”

She nodded.

“Don’t need’ta to remind me’a that, moonbrain.”

Eventually, the conversation winded down, Zoë coming to the conclusion that they had enough coin to last a few weeks, and she needed to talk to Mal before making any major decisions. Jayne was the first to leave the galley, not excusing himself. Despite his exhaustion, he was still too wound up to sleep.

He moved down the stairs to his weight set. Jayne normally benched a maximum of two-hundred fifty pounds, but being as he was all tired and such, he decided that was a mite too risky, settling on one forty-five.

Jayne grunted with exertion, feeling the blood pouring into his arms and chest, getting lost in the familiar burn as his mucles worked. His breathing grew deeper and controlled, and for a while, all he could think of was the repetitive motions of exercise. At least until he felt a (now familiar) pang of loss when he remembered that Sheppard Book wasn’t there spotting him.

 

**Thirteen**

Clean clothes and shower gel in hand, with a towel slung over his shoulder, Jayne headed for the shower that lay branched off from the common room and passenger bunks. He paused for a moment, glancing over his shoulder to the infirmary. He could still see inside of it from there, though what the room contained still depressed him.

Stepping into the white tiled room, he began stripping, peeling the now-sweaty articles of clothing from his body. Normally, he would be using the personal shower that was in Mal’s bunk, but it just didn’t sit right with him for some reason. Not while Mal was out.

Turning on the stream of recycled water and setting it to lukewarm, he stepped into the stream, groaning as the warmth stretched his spent muscles. Jayne doubted he’d be sore tomorrow, though, as he hadn’t exerted himself as he usually would. But it was still nice to feel all the tension literally circle down the drain.

He stood there under the spray, trying to think of nothing. Wanting to keep his mind blank. Jayne hadn’t known being in a ‘relationship’ would make him worry so much. Simon said Mal was gonna be fine. Hell, _everyone_ was sayin’ Mal was gonna be fine, but for some reason Jayne couldn’t get rid of that nagging feeling in his chest. He didn’t like it, but the more he tried to push it away, the more it seemed to want to grow.

So now Jayne was just trying to ignore it.

Grabbing the bottle of shower gel he had brought with him, Jayne squirted some into his hand and proceeded to lather it into the rag. He didn’t use this particular gel often; Mal had bought it for him on Persephone. Apparently it was good for your skin, but he just liked the way it smelled. Pomegranate, he thinks Mal had said. Jayne found it relaxing.

He started scrubbing down his entire body, getting lost in the scent and the warmth of the water. Satisfied that he was thoroughly clean, Jayne let the water wash the gel away, then reluctantly turned the shower off and stepped out.

Wiping the steam off the mirror that hung on the opposite wall, Jayne took a look at his face, realizing that he still looked like shit. Black rings gave the illusion that someone had given him a thrashing, and for some reason, the lines on his forehead and cheeks were more pronounced than usual. He must be more exhausted than he thought.

Sighing, he proceeded to get dressed after drying himself. Gathering the used rag, towel, and dirty clothes, Jayne dropped them in a hamper that was kept near the entrance to the shower.

Afterwards, Jayne headed over to the infirmary and glanced at the clock that hung on the wall and gaped. Had he really been in the shower for an entire hour? It hadn’t felt like ten minutes.

**Fourteen**

He sighed, resuming his position in the chair, and immediately regretted it. Exhaustion crashed into him like a herd of horses. Jayne's limbs quickly began to feel heavy and weighted, his eye lids refusing to stay open. But he was also refusing to close them.

“Tried to stay awake, Mal. Don’t think I can no more.” Jayne gave the unconscious man’s hand a reassuring squeeze. He leaned forward, spreading his arms out on the bed, and then set his head down on them. Darkness encircled him soon after that.

**-  
**

_It replayed itself over in his mind. They all raised their weapons once, like a well-oiled machine. He didn’t react in time, but Mal did.. Jayne was on the ground before he knew what was happening, only to look up and see blood spewing out of Mal like a geyser._

_Horror clenched in Jayne’s chest, followed by a kind of rage he’d only felt the time that fed had shot Kaylee in the gut._

_Bullets whizzed dangerously past his head, but he kept running forward, firing with deadly accuracy, until he was physically upon them. When he was out of ammo, he let Betsy do the rest, cutting clean through their throats._

_Only when they got Mal back to the ship and into the infirmary did he realize he’d been crying the entire time._

**Seventeen**

Kaylee watched Jayne as he slept against the bed. It was one of the sweetest things she had ever seen.

Simon squeezed past her, doing his hourly check-up on Mal to make sure he hadn’t begun to bleed internally, and to make sure none of the damaged organs had begun to fail.

“Aren’t they adorable?” Kaylee whispered to him.

Simon huffed a laugh. “They should be on the cover of an net-zine.”

“Oh, hush. I think it’s shiny how Jayne’s been looking after him.” Her smile met her eyes and it seemed to brighten the infirmary even more.

“It is nice to see Jayne’s attention more acutely… focused,” Simon agreed.

Kaylee beamed. “Think they’ll get married?”

The doctor rolled his eyes. “A bit soon to be thinking about that, don’t you think?”

The girl was already lost in thought. “I’ve never been to a sly wedding before… Who walks down the aisle? Who hands who off? What’ll they do if they want kids?”

“Kaylee, _baobei,_ I think you’re looking into things a little too far,” Simon said, finally turning back to face her.

“A girl can dream.” Kaylee's eyes glittered.

He laughed. “Yes, well, how about we go dream up something for supper?”

“Sounds shiny.” They walked up the stairs, fingers entwined.

 

**???**

_He felt he was in a pool of water; weightless, but still grounded. Floating._

_He could hear their voices, but they were far away and muffled. Couldn’t make out anyone, any of the words. Not even which language was being spoken. He couldn’t make out what was happening, where this was. No thoughts of his own. Until he heard Jayne._

_Awareness flooded his senses, struggling against water, trying to find some solid footing. He noticed a light in the distance, though, and because there was no earth to be found, he decided to try and swim towards it._

**Twenty**

Mal's eyes cracked open slowly, adjusting to the bright lights over head. A headache muddled his thoughts, and his entire body felt restrained. Instinctively, he tried to sit up, only to realize too late that that was a really terribly idea. Sharp pain radiated throughout his entire torso, causing him to groan loudly.

Jayne awoke with a start, his head darting around, his eyes dazed, until he felt Mal’s hand clench around his own, causing him to look down at it, then up to Mal’s face.

“Mal?”

Mal calmed down a bit. His vision was still to blurry to see _who_ was speaking, but Mal would recognize that voice anywhere.

He tried to speak, but it came out as a croak, muffled by the oxygen mask he still wore. “Jayne?”

Simon entered then. “He’s awake?”

“Yeah,” Jayne sputtered.

“Mal? Mal, can you hear me?” Simon asked the captain, shining a light in his eyes. Weakly, Mal moved a hand to try to remove the mask from his face, Jayne helping him when he recognized the motion.

Swallowing first, Mal spoke. “What the hell is going on?” His voice was still scratchy.

“You jumped in front of a _fucking barrage_ , you _hudan!”_ The mercenary answered him angrily. _  
_

“Jayne!” Simon snapped.

Mal looked even more confused. “I did?”

“Ya did.” Jayne leaned in close then, pressing his lips to Mal’s lightly. “Should’a been me on this table, you son of a bitch.”

Mal leaned back, not feeling like such an idiot now. “’m sorry. Next time I’ll let you get killed,” he joked.

“Damn right you will,” Jayne replied, pressing his lips a bit more firmly against Mal’s.

**Author's Note:**

> And there you have it. This was a lot of firsts for me. My first attempt at slash, a sex scene, and romance of any kind (that didn't completely suck). 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed reading.


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